


Indemnification

by Sanshal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Guilty Dean Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Protectiveness, Self-Sacrifice, Self-Sacrificing Dean, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7500591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanshal/pseuds/Sanshal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Indemnification:(verb) the act of compensating for service or loss or injury</p><p>The way Dean saw it, he had a lot to compensate for...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indemnification

**Indemnification**

“I can help you,” The breathy voice whispered.

 

Dean glanced up at the shimmery figure slowly approached him. It was almost like she was floating. He shook his head at his thoughts: _Damn, he really must have hit his head hard ._

 

“I can help you,” She repeated.

 

“I’ll gut you,” He growled, a worthless threat considering he couldn’t even move.

 

His hostility seemed to bring her up short and he smiled inwardly.

 

“You want to protect them. I can help you,” She repeated.

 

Dean frowned, “Protect whom?”

 

“Your… family ?” She tilted her head in a gesture so reminiscent of Castiel that for a minute he lost the train of his thoughts.

 

Then, “What… what d’you mean?”

 

“You’re strong… a protector… but bad luck seems to follow you. Turns whatever you touch twisted, doesn’t it? Dean? You’re _poison_  and people in your general vicinity don't have much in the way of a life-span… Am I wrong, Dean? ”

 

He couldn’t look up as he confessed, “No,”

 

“But I can help you,”

 

“How?” And this time he could meet her eyes.

 

“I’m far older than you think, Hunter. And you are not the first who desire to protect your loved ones…”

 

Dean swallowed, weighing his options, “What’s the price?”

 

“You let me go,”

 

“I can’t do that,” He denied instantly.

 

“Not even to protect dear little Sammy?”

 

He inhaled sharply at the taunt.

 

“Maybe you do not care as much as I’d thought…”

 

“Do you promise not to hurt anyone?” He asked suddenly.

 

“Define ‘ _hurt’_.”

 

“Kill, maim or sacrifice for your spells.” Dean answered instantly.

 

“Even if they volunteer?”

 

“Only themselves, no other. You will not perform spells of revenge.”

 

“Deal,” She smiled.

 

“The- the spell?”

 

“Ah… yes, I need some things from each of you,”

 

“This… this spell can protect more than one person?”

 

“Oh darling, this spell can protect as many people as you want. Just give me something of theirs.”

 

“Something?”

 

“Hair, cloth… any item that belongs to those you desire to protect.”

 

“Even from me… This spell will protect them from… from me?”

 

“From everything.”

 

He nodded and reached into his pocket, fishing out a blood stained handkerchief- it had dried, but it would have to do, “The blood’s my brother’s.”

 

She nodded, accepting it.

 

Dean hesitated but then pulled out a small black feather,

 

Her lips tilted into a smile, “An angel? You desire to protect an angel?”

 

Dean bit his lip and jerked his head in a nod.   _Cas and Sam were his only family, now … especially since Cas had been cast out of heaven because of him …_

 

“And now for the hard part…” She murmured, efficiently mixing a variety of herbs and extracting the essence from the blood-smeared handkerchief and the lone feather.

 

“Hard part?” Dean questioned; eager to get this done before his brother or his friend realized he was missing.

 

“I need a power source for the spell.”

 

“Power source?”

 

“The thing that will drive the spell… basically, a piece of you.”

 

“Does blood suffice?”

 

She shook her head, a smile teasing at the corners of her lips, “Don’t be naïve, Hunter. It has to be more substantial than that.”

 

“What…” he licked his lips, “What do you recommend?”

 

“A piece of your ribs is usually ideal.”

 

He winced.

 

“Sometimes people choose to give up their entire gall bladder,” She added. “It will never heal, but it is your pain… your _willingness to endure the pain_ , to be precise; that will drive the spell and the protection.”

 

He nodded, “Fine.”

 

“Rib, then?”

 

He nodded again.

 

She gestured with her hand and Dean obediently slipped off his shirt to climb up on the stone table.

 

“Would you require restrains?”

 

He shook his head.

 

“Good,”

 

She produced a blade from somewhere and Dean curled his fingers into fists, determined to endure this stoically.   _This was the least of what he owed them for ruining their lives over and over and over…_

 

She set the point of the blade at the centre of his chest, over his sternum and cut a neat line down to his navel.

 

White hot pain burned at the slice and it took everything in him not to beg her to stop. _But he could do this_ : He’d survived Alistair for 30 years; he could handle a little witch.

 

She’d just made a ‘V’ from his clavicle to the centre of his chest; mimicking a classic cadaver cut when the door burst open.

 

“Step away from him!” Sam’s voice shouted.

 

Dean sat up, hissing as the movement aggravated his cuts, “Stop!”

 

  _They were going to ruin everything!_

 

“Dean!” And that was Cas’ voice.

 

“Step. Away. From. Him.” Sam’s voice had gone that low I’m-gonna-make-you-hurt range again and Dean hurried to explain.

 

“Sammy, stop! I- I asked for this!”

 

She just smiled- blood smeared hands held up non- threateningly; confirming, “He did,”

 

Tip-tilted hazel eyes widened, before narrowing, “What’d you do to him?!”

 

“Nothing!” She laughed, “I was just trying to help,”

 

And in a desperate bid, Dean grabbed her wrist, “ _Finish the spell!_ ”

 

She looked at him and for the first time the strange violet eyes help pity, “I’m sorry,”

 

“Wha-?”

 

But before he could finish, he felt the familiar touch of Castiel’s fingers at his forehead and then the world went black.

 

\---

His whole body felt like it was on fire as Dean woke.   _must’ve been hell of a hunt, last night_ .

 

Sighing, he blearily forced his lids open.  If _he_ was feeling this bad, there was no telling how banged up Sammy must’ve been…

 

“He’s awake,”

 

  _Castiel’s voice_

 

“Dean?”

 

  _Sammy…_

 

His eyes slammed open and immediately focused on the worry-lined hazel eyes peering at him. “You okay?”

 

Sam huffed out an incredulous laugh and shook his head, “Yeah… yeah, I am.”

 

“What were you thinking, Dean?”

 

And Cas’s voice was accusatory.

 

He tried to think back on how he’d messed up this time and the memory slammed into him. Oh.   _Oh_.

 

“Just wanted to protect you,” He mumbled.

 

“I am an angel of the Lord, Dean.” And Castiel’s voice was scathing, “Why would you even   _think_  I needed protecting?”

 

  _Shit, he’d offended them…_   He hung his head, “I’m sorry,”

 

“Why would you think it was okay for you to make that kind of sacrifice, De?”

 

Dean closed his eyes, Sam sounded so young… _so…hurt_.

 

“I… I’ve messed up, Sammy… hurt you so much…just wanted to make up for some of it…”

 

“By letting her hurt you,”

 

He shrugged, “Hurt you worse.”

 

“How?”

 

He looked up, “God Sammy… _how can you even ask that_?”

 

His little brother kept looking steadily back.

 

He sighed, “Took you from Stanford. From Jess… _ruined your normal_. Got you kidnapped, possessed… _killed_ … As if that wasn’t enough, I went and started the apocalypse and made you pay for my mistakes...”

 

Sam’s eyes were brimming over and he opened his mouth twice but nothing came out.

 

“And me, Dean?” Castiel interrupted, “What did you think you owed me?”

 

“I’m the reason you fell. Why Heaven won’t let you back in… Why you were in purgato-”

 

“ _No,_ ”

 

Dean glanced up, shocked by the steel in Sam’s voice.

 

“ _You_ ’re the reason we’re _alive_ , Dean.”

  _It wasn’t enough_ , Sam knew. Dean's psyche was so ridden with guilt and coupled with his brother's martyr complex it was damn near impossible to convince him that he was ' **good'**. _But it was a start…_

The end.

 

 

 

 


End file.
